The fall

Chapter 24

Blake

I slammed my fists down on the desk, the papers scattering in front of me. My father was dead, murdered. I'd spent hours piecing together the evidence, and it all pointed to one person; Penelope.
Penelope—my Penelope—had killed my father. The way of the kill, the reports, the disappearance. It all added up. But I couldn't bring myself to care about the murder. My father had been a power greedy madman. The world was fucking better off without him. What mattered now was finding her.

Where was she? Was she okay? I needed to know.
I slammed my drawer shut, pushing aside everything else. The investigation could wait. She couldn't.

The door soon creaked open, and Kaede stepped in, his eyes immediately narrowing at the mess "Blake, you need a break," He said, his voice firm. "You've been at this for hours. You're not going to get anywhere like this."

I don't look at him, I couldn't. "I don't have time for a fucking break, Kaede. I need to find Penelope."

"You're not going to find her in this state," He snapped. "You're too close to this. Look at you—you're panicking. You're not thinking straight."

I spun around, my heart pounding. "I don't care about anything else right now. I need to know she's safe. I'm not stopping until I find her."

Kaede expression softened, but his voice stayed steady. "I understand. But you're not helping her by running yourself ragged. We can figure this out together—but not if you burn yourself out first."

I shook my head, my frustration building  "I can't stop. Not until I know she's okay."

He sighed, and for a moment, I thought he might give in. But then he stepped closer. "At least take a small break to blow off some steam, commander. You're about to collapse. You can't help anyone if you're exhausted at work."

I nod with a sigh before I run a hand through my hair. My mind was already elsewhere. I have to find her, I have to know she's alright. I won't rest until she's in my arms once more. But Kaede's right, I need a fucking break—at least for a moment.

...

It was well past midnight when I found myself standing alone in the training grounds, fists pounding against the heavy bag. Each hit came harder than the last, my body drenched in sweat, my knuckles raw. I wasn't really thinking anymore. I was just hitting, trying to punch away the chaos in my head. But no matter how hard I struck nothing seemed to help.

My father was dead. And his murderer was none other than my girlfriend.

I swung again, harder than before, and this time, my fist hit with a jarring force that sent a shock through my arm. The bag swayed back, and for a split second, I froze, my hand still in the air. And then—it hit me.

Penelope was the one who killed him.

And the rest fell into place. Like a puzzle finally coming together, the truth rushed in. She hadn't just killed him out of anger or rage. But for vengeance. She had killed him because she found out. She found out about her mother. That has to be it. She found out about what my father did.

My breath hitched. Penelope knew the truth.

She knew my father slaughtered her mother. That's why she did it. She uncovered the truth—our truth—and when she did, she couldn't just stand by and do nothing. She took her revenge.
I sank to the ground, my legs giving out beneath me. My heart felt like it was about to stop beating.

Everything—the murder, her disappearance—It all made fucking sense now, in the worst way possible. The woman I love had murdered who had raised the both of us. He had been a monster—so I couldn't hate her for it.
I could never hate her.

I bury my face in my hands, shaking, my breath coming fast and uneven. The fact that she could become a fugitive—It was all too much. It was suffocating. I can't take this anymore, It hurts—I can't lose her, she knows I hid the truth.

Breathe, Blake, Breathe— I repeat my mothers in my head, trying to comfort myself how she comforted me whenever sad was putting too much pressure on me. If she were still alive, she'd definitely would've been able to stop this..